Target Omega

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Olivia was encouraged by the progress she was making. A contact at the Pentagon had provided her with Dan Dwyer’s unlisted phone number as well as a cell number.

Dwyer was the president and cofounder of DGT, a closely held, sprawling security services firm. Though slightly less than a decade old, it was one of the premier private military contractors in the country. It drew many of its field personnel from special forces and clandestine units — American as well as foreign — and it regularly discharged highly sensitive duties for both public and private sector clients.

Despite the firm’s propensity for secrecy, Olivia was able to glean useful kernels of information from a two-year-old Wall Street Journal profile on Dwyer. The salient points in the article were that he had been a BUD/S instructor at Coronado at the same time Garin was there and that it was unclear to which SEAL team he had been attached. That left open the possibility that Dwyer had been a member of SEAL Team Six and involved in WMD disposal.

Olivia called Dwyer’s home number. There was no answer and the call didn’t go to voice mail or an answering machine. She then dialed his cell and he answered instantly.

“Dwyer.”

Olivia, somewhat surprised to have reached him, decided to be direct. “Hello, Mr. Dwyer, my name is Olivia Perry. I’m an aide to National Security Advisor James Brandt.”

Dwyer was equally direct. “Hello, Ms. Perry. I know exactly who you are. I read at least one essay coauthored by you and Professor Brandt in Foreign Affairs, the one on cyberwarfare strategies.”

Olivia was caught slightly off guard. For some reason she had expected Dwyer to be reticent, if not outright hostile. “Mr. Dwyer, I’ll get right to the point, and admittedly, it may sound somewhat peculiar. In the next day or two we expect the United Nations to vote on a Russian-Iranian resolution condemning Israel’s actions in the latest Middle East crisis. Without going into detail, we have some concerns about what the Russians and Iranians are up to and we think that a friend of yours could help us address those concerns.”

“What friend?” Dwyer’s tone was still friendly, but there was now a hint of guardedness to it.

“I can’t go into it over this call. To be honest, I’m not even certain he is a friend of yours, but I have reason to think you know him.”

“Why not just call this person directly?”

“We can’t locate him.”

There was a pause before Dwyer asked, “Is this urgent? I’m sorry, that’s obviously a very silly question. The Office of the National Security Advisor doesn’t call on a Sunday afternoon unless it’s pretty important. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to ask you some questions about your friend — acquaintance — in person. I know this is short notice, but I see you live near Mount Vernon. That’s not that far from me. I could be at your house in forty-five minutes. It shouldn’t take much of your time. Jim Brandt would be very grateful.”

“Unfortunately, Ms. Perry…”

“Call me Olivia.”

“Deal. You can call me Dan. Unfortunately, I’m spending the rest of the day with my attorneys, who happen to be seated across from me right now. They’re very well dressed, very well groomed, and very well paid. I have no doubt I’m being billed as we speak. I’m appearing before the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence tomorrow morning and my lawyers and I need to go over my testimony so I don’t use an inordinate number of expletives or accidentally perjure myself. By the way, when did the Senate start holding hearings on Mondays? I have no doubt the only reason they’re doing it is to screw with my weekend.”

Olivia couldn’t help being amused. Dan Dwyer sounded like a character. “Is there another time you would be able to meet?”

“How much time do you need again?”

“Whatever you can give me.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Dwyer said, “My testimony is at ten A.M. Why don’t you join me here for breakfast tomorrow at, say, seven thirty A.M.?”

“Excellent. Thank you very much. I’ll see you then.”

“Remember to bring your appetite.”